


She Gives Me Money

by Vonnelise



Series: The Weird Ones' Epilogue [6]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Comfort, Crying, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Insecurities, Insecurity, Interracial Relationship, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:18:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2593265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vonnelise/pseuds/Vonnelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This part may or may not make sense if you haven't read the main story of this, which you should probably read if you haven't. And if you don't know, the title is from the song, "Gold Digger" by Kanye West. (Ugh, I hate that guy, but that's a good song). Okay, you can read now.</p>
    </blockquote>





	She Gives Me Money

**Author's Note:**

> This part may or may not make sense if you haven't read the main story of this, which you should probably read if you haven't. And if you don't know, the title is from the song, "Gold Digger" by Kanye West. (Ugh, I hate that guy, but that's a good song). Okay, you can read now.

Tonight is Dean’s retirement party. Alex and few other of Dean’s work friends had set it up at this expensive banquet hall. Everyone who is anyone is here. All worth more than me. It feels so odd being at these type of parties and not having a tray in my hand. Now I’m allowed to take glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres off the trays. 

This party is all for Dean, so it was only natural for him to get everyone’s attention. It’s a bit uncomfortable being here because almost every woman here either wants Dean or makes sure that I know that they think I’m some call girl. 

“That’s a nice dress you’re wearing. Alexander McQueen?” A woman in a fiery red gown. I look down at my white embroidered gown. Dean specifically picked it out because he liked the way my ass looked in it. 

I nod my head with a smile, grateful that there’s actually a female here that seems to not hate me. “Yes, it is.”

She nods her head. “Yes, I know my designers. And what do you do for a living?” 

“Right now nothing. I just got back from college.” 

Her eyebrows rise from my words. “You know what else I know other than designers? I know when someone can’t afford them. Did Dean buy that for you?”

And the smile disappears from my face. She is not an ally. “Why does it matter to you?” This is getting pretty tiring. I’m just ready for this night to be over. 

She shrugs her shoulders as if my question did nothing to her. “It’s just a bit odd that we’ve never met before and then all of a sudden, you’re here with Dean.”

Over the years I’ve learned to control my temper. I’m not that teenage girl that would have been slapped the shit out of this bitch. Now I use my words. “How long have you been working here, dear?” I ask her. 

She shifts uncomfortably before answering. “Three years.”

A smile comes across my face. “Ahh, now it makes sense. I’ve actually known Dean longer than you’ve been here, actually. So before you try to ask me anymore invasive questions that have absolutely nothing to do with you, think before you speak.” I walk away from her, searching for Dean through the crowd.

“Tambryn!” I look to my left to see Dean beckoning me over to him with a crowd of his former colleagues surrounding him. I take a deep breath before walking over. 

When I walk over, Dean wraps his arm around my waist to pull me closer to him. “This is my lady, Tambryn Caverly,” he introduces me to the group. We’re still struggling with labels. We know what we are, but we don’t know what to call each other in public. The group accepts it, some more than others. I give them all a short smile. 

They continue on with their smart people talk while I just stay by Dean and silently sip my champagne. 

“Hey, Dean! Come on up why don’t ya! Say some of that inspirational crap you’re always spewing my way!” Alex is obviously drunk. And whoever thought it was a good idea to let him on stage made a bad judgment call. 

Dean kisses my cheek before excusing himself from the group and going on stage, taking the microphone from his intoxicated friend. I back away into the shadows so I don’t have to be too close to the group he left me with. But everyone’s too engulfed in what Dean is about to say, thank God.

Throughout his speech, I watch how he just demands attention from every person in the room without even being intimidating about it. He just has that presence that if you talk to him enough, you’re going to hear some important stuff. I mean, I’ve known this since I met him, but to see it across a room with hundreds of adults in it is something different. I lean against the wall and just listen to his deep, friendly voice. Even when he’s not even talking to me he has the power to calm me. 

He’s been up there for a minute and I couldn’t tell ya a thing he’s said, but he’s just so damn beautiful to look at. His beard is coming back slowly but surely and he’s had a few drinks so his blue eyes are even bluer. I stand up straighter to hear him talk. 

Dean talks about his family and how he knows that the company is in good shape with Brendan and Alex there. Everyone applauds at the mention of their names. “But now, I’d like to start my life with my gorgeous fiancée, Tambryn.” 

Oh my God, why did he do that?! Everyone turns my way, stares boring into me. The men clap, but the women don’t, which makes it the most awkward applause ever. Dean soon wraps it up after that. 

We’re back home about an hour and a half later. It took everything in me not to cry in front of Dean, but I’m in the sacred place of our huge closet so I just let the tears flow. He normally doesn’t come straight to our room after getting back in so late. 

But I guess I had to cry more than was originally planned because Dean’s foot steps are soon heard. “Princess, where are you-?” He answers his own question when he walks deeper into the closet. 

I didn’t have time to ready myself so he sees me crying on the floor with nothing but my bra and panties on. Dean drops to his knees next to me, wrapping his arms around me. “What’s wrong, Princess?” The worry is evident in his voice. 

“I don’t want to go to parties with your friends anymore,” I hiccup. His hands are on both sides of my face giving me no choice but to look up into his eyes. 

“Why, what happened?” 

I take his hands from my face and set them on my thighs. “Everyone there thought I was either an escort or a gold digger.”

His face turns even more worried when he doesn’t know how to respond to this. “But you’re none of those things,” he says. 

I shake my head. “They sure didn’t think so. I had at least a dozen women come up to me and basically say that I sucked your dick for that dress. And about five men undressed me with their eyes probably wondering how much they’d have to pay.” My words make more tears fall down my face. 

Dean wipes my face and kisses my forehead, bringing me into a hug. “Tambryn?” He whispers. 

“Hmm?” I mumble. 

“Do you know the names of any of those people?” 

I shake my head no. “Then why do the opinions of people you don’t know make you cry?”

I push my head away from his chest to look up at his face. “Because those are people you work with, Dean! Because those are the people of your social status. People you know, people you hang out with, that’s why it matters to me.”

“So you think that I may share the same beliefs as them when it comes to you?” He asks. 

I look down between us and shrug my shoulders. “You might,” it comes out as a mutter. 

Dean tips my chin up so I have no choice but to look at him. “Princess, I’m insulted that you’d put me in the same boat as people you don’t even know. I have never nor will I ever think of you as an escort or a gold digger. You’re a spoiled little thing, but never those other words.” 

His words make me smile at him. “You made me spoiled.”

Dean nods his head with a smile. “I kind of did.” 

“One more thing, though. Why did you call me your fiancée?” I ask him.

He shrugs, his face heating up a little. “I had to call you something. We’ve been with each other a bit too long to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and I hate using those. So I had to call you something. I think fiancée fits for now, don’t you think?” 

I lean back to think. He might be right. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

 

“Good,” Dean slightly slaps my ass, “Now let’s get out of the closet. Time for bed.”


End file.
